Gavin
At first, I thought I misheard her.
I was kissing her—making love to her—and she was soft and warm beneath me, her hands grasping at my back like she needed me.
And then she said his name.
“Caz.”
Not mine.
Not even close.
A blade to the chest would've hurt less.
My breath stalled, body frozen above hers. I pulled back just enough to see her face. Her eyes flew open, wide and horrified.
She knew exactly what she’d said.
“Tare…” My voice cracked.
“I—Gavin, I didn’t—” She reached up, her fingertips brushing my jaw like she could undo it.
But she couldn’t.
“You said his name.” I sat back, dragging my hands through my hair, trying to find air in a forest that suddenly felt like it was caving in.
“It was a mistake,” she whispered. “I wasn’t thinking, I was—God, Gavin, I’m so
